


Consolation Prize

by orphan_account



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-15
Updated: 2010-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Statistically speaking, the more older brothers a man has, the more likely he is to be gay.  Also, the odds of Tim Urban making it to the Idol finale are 5000 to one. Statistics win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consolation Prize

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [I Can't Hide](http://archiveofourown.org/works/77822)

To his complete and utter surprise, Tim outlasts Andrew, Katie, Aaron, and then Casey, who can't be saved, although they all agree that Kara probably wished she could. When Casey goes home, Tim knows that the wave of sympathy, or Vote for the Worst, or Southern pride, or whatever, that he's been riding for weeks is about to collapse under his feet. He goes through the next week with the grim certainty of a man about to face his execution. He sees the others looking at him unhappily, as though he's going to destroy their chances. He wants to tell them that he won't – that this is really the last time for him.

Truth be told, he's gotten really tired of all of it – the distrust and suspicion from his fellow Idols, the disrespect and insults from Seacrest and the judges. Tim thinks it will be a relief to be plain Tim Urban again, and not 'Turban' anymore.

The theme is Hair Metal that week, so he picks 'Every Rose Has a Thorn', and he can't be bothered to worry about whether it suits him or not. He sings it with the reckless abandon of a man with nothing to lose. The judges actually like it, but evidently America has had enough of him.

The inevitable is still hard to take, even though he's ready for it. On Thursday afternoon, he's sitting on the steps of the mansion, his bags at his feet, feeling shell-shocked as he waits for the driver from 19 to show up for his ride to the airport.

The remaining Idols have gathered closely around him, a show of solidarity now that he's not a threat anymore, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. The girls are tucked up against him on either side, their arms overlapping around his waist. Big Mike rests a heavy hand on his shoulder. The knees bracketing his back belong to Lee. He leans into the touches, grateful for them. He's used to being in a puppy pile wherever he goes his entire life, and this is comfortingly like being home.

Home.

He's not sure he wants to go back to Duncanville. After weeks in the Idol bubble, the thought of going back tastes like sourness on his tongue. Tim doesn't know where else he'd go, so Dallas will do. He's a few days shy of turning twenty-one years old, and doesn't have a clue what he's supposed to do next.

The sound of a car engine turning into the long drive to the mansion breaks the silence. The girls press closer as though they'd try to keep him, but Tim frowns. The rumbling growl doesn't sound anything like the sedate SUVs that 19 uses to shuttle them around.

The car rounds the final curve, and it's not an SUV at all. It's a low-slung black muscle car, eight cylinders and plenty of horses. A Mustang. Tim can't imagine why 19 would send such a car. His heart starts accelerating.

The Mustang stops and Tim holds his breath. The driver is a tall man with black hair and shades covering his eyes, but Tim would know him anywhere. The breath he's been holding escapes in a whoosh of surprise. He can feel the others seem to draw protectively around him.

Tim can't take his eyes off the mentor as the man walks around the car and leans against the passenger side. He hasn't told anyone about the encounter backstage all those weeks ago, but it's been on his mind, especially when he's needed an extra push or inspiration to get himself through each week.

The man slides the sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing his startling blue eyes. He smiles. "I heard you needed a ride."

Tim clears his throat. "19 is sending a car."

The grin gets bigger. "That car will be slightly delayed. To make up for you leaving American Idol, I'm offering a few days at my place. We can sightsee, hang out, whatever."

Confusion sets in. "Why?"

"Because leaving the Idol bubble for the real world is hard. You need some time to decompress, let things settle." He looks at the group huddled on the stairs. "All of you will need it, whether you win or lose."

"Good advice," Big Mike agrees.

"Why are you doing this for me, though?" Tim can't understand why someone on the verge of superstardom would bother with him. His talent is limited, and he's pretty sure he's not going to get a record deal.

The mentor shrugs. "Maybe you need it worse than the others. Maybe you have more to sort out. Maybe I like you."

Crystal leans her head on Tim's shoulder, a move clearly meant to be defensive. Perhaps she knows what Tim's been hiding or she's just responding to her instincts. He doesn't know if he needs it or not. Following the mentor home has never been in the plans. Tim didn't even know it was on the table.

If he goes, though, his life changes forever. Again. Maybe more than auditioning for Idol changed him. If they go anywhere together, he doesn't see how he can avoid having his picture taken with the man. Everyone will see.

He finds he doesn't care about that so much as he cares about what he's saying about himself if he goes. He stares at his hands. The mentor made it obvious that he wants Tim when they met the first time, but Tim doesn't know if he wants the man in return. As a person in his own right, not the life he represents.

If he goes with the mentor, he might have to deal with the things he's been avoiding. Tim's been used to hiding for years. Promise rings and 'True Love Waits' made it easy for him to keep his secret. Ironically, his apparently unassailable virtue makes him all the more attractive to the girls. But he's never had any problems turning down the endless offers. Not that he hasn't had more than a few encounters with girls' hands, and his dick gets hard when pretty much anyone touches it. His dick isn't that picky. But he's always fallen back on his religion when things looked like they might go further.

This offer, however, has nothing to do with the point of abstinence teaching. He's pretty sure that his pastor hadn't anticipated this turn of events.

The silence drags on. "The 19 car will be here in about twenty minutes, so it's totally up to you," the mentor finally says.

He's so beautiful, that he makes Tim's heart ache with it. There's no question in Tim's mind that he wants this. However, he's still slightly frightened by the man and his lifestyle.

"I don't do drugs," he says, trying to explain his hesitation.

The mentor looks completely puzzled by that. There's a muffled guffaw behind him and then Lee rests his forehead between Tim's shoulder blades. The hand on his shoulder retreats, covering Mike's eyes as he shakes with laughter. "Only you, Tim."

The man grins. "We can stay out of clubs, no problem."

"My parents are expecting me."

"Tell them you're sightseeing," Lee suggests in his raspy drawl. "Wouldn't be lying."

Siobhan smiles at him. Crystal picks her head up and looks at him intently. "It's your life," she says. "Live it how you want to."

Tim still doesn't know what he wants, but he thinks Adam Lambert might be a good person to help him figure it out. He stands up, the other Idols joining him. He hugs the girls, letting them wrap him in their comfort. He and Lee bump fists and then Big Mike envelops him in a suffocating embrace. Tim soaks it all in, grateful that he knows them, that they're in his life.

They pull back finally, and he walks down the steps. He looks up at the mentor. No . . . _Adam._ Up close, Tim realizes he has a few inches on Tim, but he's not the towering man that Tim thought he was. Suddenly, he's just a man. Adam stands in the bright sunshine, a handsome guy wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Tim smiles at him, and in return, he receives a happy grin that lights up Adam's blue eyes.

"You'd better take good care of him," Lee growls.

Tim expects some sort of sleazy rejoinder, but instead Adam's face grows serious. "I will, I promise."

Lee and Mike grab Tim's bags, and Tim stands by, suddenly feeling useless while they fit the luggage into the trunk of the Mustang. When it's done, he senses the finality of it, and takes his time giving each of them one last hug. It's not goodbye, not with the finale and the tour on the horizon, but they won't ever be the same as they are now. Adam stands quietly, making no impatient moves, and Tim supposes that he understands this scene completely.

When they let him go, Adam rests his hand at the small of Tim's back, gently urging him to the passenger side of the car. Surprisingly, Tim appreciates the protectiveness of the gesture, although he's pretty sure it leaves no doubt in the minds of his friends about the nature of his connection to Adam. He shrugs it off. None of them are likely to say anything.

Adam's a competent driver, handling the powerful car with ease in LA traffic. Tim relaxes into the bucket seat, trying to think of something to say. He's a little too brain dead to manage anything at the moment, and Adam doesn't seem to expect anything. He hums under his breath a little, mostly riffs of notes that occasionally drift into something recognizable and then away again. Tim closes his eyes, not really caring where they're going. He understands what Adam means by decompressing and he's really grateful he's not forced to go through all these emotions in a crowded airport or stuck in a plane.

"Thank you," he says.

Adam smiles. "I'm flying out Sunday evening," he says. "I'll get Lane to change your ticket to Dallas for then."

Three days. "That would be great."

They fall silent again. Tim stares out the window, watching as houses rise and fall along the freeway, then give way to tall buildings and back to houses again. They leave the highway and head into the hills.

Adam pulls in front of a massive wrought iron gate, with a driveway that leads away into the trees. Tim supposes there's a mansion hiding back there.

"Keeps the paps out," Adam explains as he pushes the security code.

There's a car parked across the street and the window goes down as Tim watches. He wants to duck down but he's afraid it would make him more obvious.

"Don't worry," Adam laughs. "Tinted glass. Telephoto proof."

"Okay."

The house at the end of the drive is surprisingly small and modern, made of glass and steel. Tim likes it immediately. He smiles as he steps out of the car.

"We'll get your things later," Adam says, unlocking the door. "Hungry?"

"I'm not really sure."

"I hear you, man." Adam gestures to the house. "Later, if you feel like it, we can have home-cooked dinner or order pizza if you like."

"You cook?" Tim asks as he follows the taller man inside.

"Oh no," Adam laughs. "I have a service. Called 'Set the Table.' They bring in all this stuff and all I have to do is warm it up. I pick the menu for the week and they deliver."

"Cool." Tim nods, seeing the advantage of that.

Adam stands back, like he's waiting for something. Tim decides he's not going to follow the rock star around like a puppy, plus he thinks he might actually be hungry. He opens the door to the fridge and pokes around.

"Baked ravioli?"

"Ugh, carbs. But ridiculously good."

"I think I could eat now."

Adam laughs. "Oh, to be young again."

"Whatever. Like you're so old."

"I feel like I am, sometimes. Around you people."

Tim's feeling more relaxed, almost peaceful. The bantering is familiar, like being with his family again, except somehow with even less expectations. He suspects that if he said 'no' to hooking up again that Adam would be fine with it. The lack of pressure after the past months of intensity is wonderful.

Adam mumbles as he prods at the oven, finally getting it to warm up. He puts the dish in and sets the time, then pulls out a bottle of red wine and opens it with skillful hands. He pours himself a glass and then pulls a can of Coke out of the fridge, popping it and pouring it out in a frosted mug that he removes from the fridge.

Tim takes the drink, glad the man didn't make a fuss about his tee totaling ways. Although it makes feel even younger, like he's a little kid.

"I'm curious," Adam says. "Why Idol? You don't really seem like the type. Not your singing. I meant attitude."

Sipping his Coke, Tim thinks about it, knowing that his host isn't trying to be insulting. "I'm one of ten kids, you know. Youngest boy out of six. I played in a Christian group around DFW with my brothers."

"Stage experience is always good, but Idol's completely different."

"Yeah." Condensation forms on his glass, running down to wet his fingers. "I guess I was just tired of being known as one of a pack."

He makes quotes in the air with his fingers, "One of those Urban kids."

Adam nods, and Tim continues, "Anyway, I just wanted something for myself. Something that didn't belong to everybody else in my family."

With a grin, Adam says, "And the universe granted your wish."

Tim shakes his head. "No kidding. I never expected . . . any of it."

Never expected to make finals, or the top ten, or the top five. Never expected to be sitting in Adam Lambert's kitchen discussing what to have for dinner.

"What do you feel like doing?"

Tim chokes a little, wondering if he's supposed to be picking out a sexual menu along with dinner.

Adam rolls his eyes. "The next few days, I mean. We can do the tourist thing to keep your parents happy. And I know how to walk around with someone and not have it look like we're intimate."

"I suppose there's no way to be incognito."

"In this town?" Adam snorts. "Hell no. Between the actual paps and the camera phones, if we leave, we'll be photographed."

"That makes me nervous."

"You might have to get used to it, but for now, I don't want my affairs splashed all over the internet, and I suspect you don't either."

Tim thinks about telling his parents the truth. Hard as it will be, he'd rather it be on his terms, than by ambush courtesy of internet rumors. Oddly, he thinks they'd take the gay thing better than they would if he were caught drinking in some sleazy club.

"Not just yet," Tim agrees. "I need to do this on my own terms."

"Then we're perfectly safe for each other. That's a difficult thing to find these days. I mean, someone that I'm sure won't go running off to spill their guts. Or take pictures."

The timer on the oven goes off then, and their conversation ends as they put the meal on the table. The menu includes some kind of salad in various containers that Adam mixes together and is accompanied by some crusty bread. Tim finds himself starving all of a sudden and he digs in gratefully. Adam eats mostly salad, taking only one piece of ravioli and leaving the bread entirely alone.

When dinner ends, Tim feels like he ate too much. His stomach is trying to twist itself into knots. He wants what comes next, but he's afraid of it at the same time. Even more than going on Idol, this is a line that if he crosses it, he knows he can't go back.

Warm fingers cup his chin, lifting his face up. Adam looks concerned. "You look like you're going to fall over."

"Yeah."

"I recommend TV. Let's see . . . Thursday night, hmm."

"I like Supernatural," Tim offers.

Adam raises an eyebrow. "Mmm, yes. Texas does grow them pretty."

He strides into the living room. Tim follows, feeling slightly confused about how Texas relates to a show about the apocalypse. Adam grabs the remote and then plops down into the deep couch. He holds out an arm, clearly expecting Tim to join him.

Tim sits down awkwardly, and Adam drops his arm around Tim's shoulders.

"Pretty?" Tim asks.

"I like Texans," Adam answers. "Those boys on Supernatural are from your home state."

"Oh yeah." Tim has totally forgotten that.

Supernatural is its usual nail-biting stuff and Tim finds himself curling closer to Adam as the show progresses. Adam's hands never stray from his shoulders, and Tim finds himself relaxing. When the episode ends on a tear-jerker note, Adam starts channel surfing, making no mention of getting Tim naked and debauching him the way Tim expects.

The anxiety of the competition that he's been living with for weeks finally dissipates as he mindlessly watches TV. Day after day of being dragged from one place to another, late nights worrying about songs and whether Kara will finally succeed in making him look like a retard on national TV – all of that tension and worry drifts away.

Tim finds himself going boneless, slumping down to rest his head on Adam's leg. Adam makes a comfortable pillow. His hands card through Tim's hair, making a mess of it, no doubt. Tim's feeling too comfortable to care.

"You have great hair," Adam says, his voice so soft that it barely carries.

"Uhmm, thanks," Tim mumbles.

Adam chuckles, a vibrating rumble that Tim feels under his cheek. Things grow pretty fuzzy after that.

When he wakes up, he's alone on the couch, but there's a pillow under his head and a lightweight throw over him. He's curled up under the blanket like a toddler. Tim sits up, sleepily rubbing at his eyes and trying to decide if he's insulted that Adam didn't molest him.

He has no idea what time it is, and doesn't really care, other than it's still dark. There's enough ambient light that he can make his way through the house without bumping his shins on anything. Tim's determined to find Adam, and then . . . Well, he's not really sure what then, but he figures he'll work it out when the moment arrives.

A hallway leads to what seem to be bedrooms and Tim guesses right on the first one he tries. The master bedroom is huge, with a sitting area off to the side and a large king-sized bed taking up most of the remaining space. Adam is a long lump under the covers. Tim waits a moment, letting his eyes adjust. The blankets are down around Adam's waist and his chest is bare.

Tim considers the situation for a moment and then pulls of his clothes down to his boxers. He's not going any further without more evidence that what he's doing is acceptable. He sits on the mattress tentatively, but his weight is enough to stir the sleep of the man in the bed.

Adam opens one eye and stares at him for a long moment. Tim's about to bolt back to the couch when Adam lifts his arm and holds out his hand in clear invitation. Tim goes with his impulses and fits himself under Adam's arm.

Making a sleepy noise, Adam sets about getting Tim into the position he wants, like Tim's a stuffed animal or something. It's a little startling how easily Adam can move him around. He finds himself on his side, back to Adam's chest, with one of Adam's legs thrust between his knees, resting heavy and male on his thigh. One arm snakes under the pillow beneath Tim's head and the other rests over Tim's waist, holding him in place. Tim feels like he's not allowed to move and he's strangely all right with that. The fierce grip is reassuring, comforting. He finds himself drifting off again.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;&lt;&lt;

Light spears into his eyes, and Tim opens them, squinting against the glare. He's not being held down anymore and he misses the feeling of the weight on him. He turns his head to find Adam Lambert sprawled on his back beside him.

Slowly and quietly, Tim props himself up on an elbow. Stealthily, his hand plucks at the sheet, lifting it up and away from the body lying next to him. Tim sits up and then carefully looks his fill.

The make up is gone from Adam's face, except for a few smudges of black eyeliner lingering around the edges of his eyelids. His face is bare, covered in enchanting freckles. The rest of him is equally freckled. Tim looks a long time at Adam's flat nipples. A few golden hairs surround them, framing the pink discs. The planes of Adam's torso are angular and sharp. Nothing curvy or feminine in the slightest. Despite Adam's pretty face, he's clearly all male.

Something hot stirs inside Tim. His gaze goes lower. Adam is wearing black boxer briefs, and the fabric does nothing to hide Adam's assets. The sunlight creates shadows, highlighting the length of his dick under the dark material. He's over to one side, not hard but definitely not limp either.

When he finally tears his eyes away from the tantalizing sight under those briefs to look at Adam's face again, he finds sleepy blue eyes regarding him.

"Morning," Tim says, keeping his voice low, not knowing how well Adam deals with mornings. He has enough experience with people who aren't sane until they get coffee to be wary.

Adam shifts his arm until his fingers rest on Tim's waist and he stays like that for a long few minutes, drawing abstract patterns on Tim's skin. The heat that had started to grow inside him gets more intense and Tim struggles to keep his breathing even.

"Do you still want . . . ?"

"Yes!" Tim interrupts. "I want."

"What do you want?"

Tim hadn't thought Adam would be asking for his thoughts on the matter, but he sits up and crosses his legs, considering about the question. Maybe he's making too much of it, but that seems like the most important thing anyone has asked him recently. Adam's long fingers curl loosely around his ankle, a band of heat that reminds him of what he can have, if he just has the courage to reach for it.

He takes a deep breath. "Everything. I want everything. I want to know how it feels to give myself over to someone else." He swallows. "To be possessed by someone."

Tim risks looking over at the man next to him. The blue of Adam's eyes has nearly disappeared and Adam is biting his lip. Tim sneaks a look at his groin and is relieved that Adam's dick isn't quiet anymore. It fills as he watches. Adam's fingers on his ankle grow tight and Tim meets his eyes.

"Go brush you teeth," Adam says quietly.

Unfolding himself from the bed, Tim's mildly surprised to find that his legs still work. He slips into the master bath and quickly finds a collection of wrapped toothbrushes in a drawer. He doesn't think about the implications of that, not at all. Instead he concentrates of getting his teeth and tongue as minty fresh as possible. While he's relieving the morning pressure on his bladder, he debates about giving himself a quick rinse with a wash cloth just to get some of the funk off, but a sniff to his armpit tells him it's really not all that bad. Besides, it's not like he's trying to have sex with some girl. He's pretty sure Adam's used to male smells in his bed.

Tim catches sight of himself in the mirror and stares for a few moments. All his life he's probably been heading for this moment . . . about to give his body to another man. He shakes his head. Tim never really thought he was much of a risk taker, but he put his voice out there on the biggest singing contest in the world, and now he's about to lose his virginity to one of the most celebrated gay men in the county. _Adam Lambert_ of all people. He wonders why he couldn't have found some nice boy closer to his own age and experience, but he knows that he wouldn't have been able to step out of his shell without the power of someone like Adam pulling him forwards.

He stops in the doorway to the bedroom. Adam has shucked his underwear and is stretching out on the sheets like a large lazy cat. He looks at Tim standing there frozen, still in his boxers.

"Pretty," Adam murmurs. "Let's see the rest."

Tim remembers how Adam likes his men . . . young and pretty. He supposes that he qualifies on at least one count and Adam seems to approve, so he guesses he has the other thing covered too. Before he can think too much about it, he slips his fingers into the elastic waistband and slides the cotton boxers off his legs. He pretends he's just in another Spring Break swimsuit competition. He puts his shoulders back and walks slowly to the bed, letting the other man look his fill. He kneels on the bed, letting his knees open naturally, finding a comfortable position.

Adam's hand is warm when he cups Tim's balls, lifting them and rolling them in his fingers. Tim arches his back into the touches as his cock finally goes completely hard. He doesn't stop the small noises of appreciation at the feel of Adam's firm and knowledgeable hands on him. He desperately wants Adam to jerk him off, but he's not sure how he can ask for it.

He wants to growl in frustration when Adam pulls his hand away.

"You looked, now it's time to touch," Adam says, stretching his arms out and opening his legs. "Anything you want."

Tim gapes at him for a moment. He's never had such an invitation in his life, and he's not quite sure what to do with unlimited free access to someone else's body. Tentatively, he puts his hands on Adam's shoulders, feeling the solid strength of them. He slides his hands down Adam's arms, exploring the muscles blanketed with freckled skin. The freckles are just so incongruous that Tim can't help touching them, like they make this completely intimidating man seem human, like someone who would actually want to be in bed with plain old Tim Urban from Duncanville.

He takes a deep breath and then moves his fingers to the nipples that had intrigued him earlier. Tim concentrates on the small ovals of flesh, pinching and tugging on them. He moves closer as Adam groans. Tim needs more contact suddenly, and he slings a knee over Adam's torso until he's straddling Adam's ribcage. The brush of skin against his balls makes him gasp. He can't move for a moment, letting the sensations wash over him.

Hands rest lightly on his thighs, not pressuring him, just resting there. Tim dares to look into the eyes of the man beneath him. Adam makes him feel so uncertain; it's worse than being on the Idol stage because this somehow means more. But Adam's eyes show nothing but eager arousal.

"Is it . . . okay?" Tim asks.

"You're doing great, baby. Just do what feels good."

"Okay."

"We'll work it out." He smiles.

Tim takes heart from that smile and leans more of his weight onto Adam. He risks putting his mouth where his fingers have been, tasting the salt lingering on Adam's pectorals. He closes his eyes, letting his tongue feel the differences in skin, by taste and texture. He licks around the borders, the small nubs tightening as he works. Adam's grip on his hips gets tighter, and his chest rises and falls quickly.

"You're a natural," Adam grunts.

Tim smiles against his chest. He risks moving himself backwards a little bit and soon feels hard flesh pressing against his back. He rests his forehead on Adam's sternum, wondering if he has the guts to move lower.

Adam's hands leave his hips and thread through his hair, nails working his scalp a little. Tim relaxes, sighing softly as the contact soothes his nerves.

"I'm a bit obsessed with your hair," Adam confesses, startling a snicker from Tim.

"Uh, make yourself at home," Tim laughs, not knowing what else to say. He suspects that his hair got him pretty far on Idol, but hearing about it from Adam Lambert is totally surreal.

"I really want you under me now," Adam says, but his fingers keep moving. "That okay?"

Tim tears his face away from Adam's chest. "Yeah."

Adam surges up, arms going around Tim's waist. Tim squawks embarrassingly and clutches Adam's shoulders. Suddenly, Adam seems huge again and Tim hadn't ever imagined having sex with someone with so much strength.

He finds himself flat on his back, legs in the air, and a really big guy settling between his parted thighs. Tim can't breathe right for some reason, even though Adam isn't leaning any weight on him. His legs instinctively curl around Adam's waist. Adam makes no further moves and Tim settles down, realizing that his ragged breathing isn't from panic, but instead from the delicious sensation of being pressed into the sheets by a long, hard body.

"My lord, I really am gay," he exclaims.

Adam snorts and drops his head on Tim's shoulder. Tim moves his head and nuzzles his face against Adam's soft hair. Adam turns slightly and then they're kissing. Tim opens his mouth, eager for Adam's tongue to press inside. He goes after it, sucking and drawing it back into his mouth. As the kiss deepens, Adam rests more of his weight on top of Tim. And Tim loves how it feels, pinned down, overwhelmed by the beautiful man on top of him.

Their dicks are touching and Tim decides that's really the best thing ever. He can't stop the slow rocking of his hips up against the pressure Adam's providing. He braces his arms, grasping Adam's shoulders and hanging on tight as they move together. Tim's dick drags against Adam's and the touches send little bolts of lightning shooting through Tim's body. The pre-come is making things slippery and then everything's so easy.

Tim tears his mouth away from the kiss to mouth at Adam's shoulder as the familiar feeling of falling over a roller coaster sweeps through his body. The only thing keeping him in place is Adam's heavy body on him. Tim convulses, shuddering and crying out. Adam follows a moment later, and Tim is still present enough to feel a lingering zing of pleasure that he's driven Adam to this point.

Their hips slow down, moving languorously as their satiated bodies tremble in the aftermath. The places they're touching are slick with come and Tim can't stop himself from making small movements that keep them in contact. He straightens his legs, but the scrape of Adam's hairs on the insides of his thighs is almost too much sensation.

Finally, Adam slides off of him, moving to the side to ease his weight from Tim. However, Tim doesn't want to lose the contact and he moves in, pressing himself tightly against the larger man.

Time passes and Tim drifts in the feeling of being in the right place, and doing the right thing. He's grateful that Adam's given him these days to pull himself together. He's got a lot of thinking to do ahead of him, but at the moment, there's nothing but peace and good feelings.

Sometime much later, he lifts his head, lips finding the angle of Adam's jaw. "What's next?"

"Definitely a shower, coffee, food for the youngster . . ." Adam answers. "And then, I don't know. What do you want to do?"

Tim feels laughter welling up from somewhere deep inside him. "How about . . . shopping?"

"Shopping? Really?"

The giddiness remains. Tim smiles. "Sure. Why not?"

"Awesome!" Adam sits up. "You really are adorable, you know that?"

Tim blushes and shrugs, taking Adam's hand as the other man pulls him towards the bathroom.


End file.
